


The Basis of Shame

by DelektorskiChick



Series: Pushing the Limit [10]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Collars, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Doggy Style, Don't Post To Another Site, Kink Negotiation, Multi, Oral Sex, Pet Play, Praise Kink, Tony’s oral fixation, Voyeurism, dom!Natasha, no that's not a pun, standard Tony sass, sub!clint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:47:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26762335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelektorskiChick/pseuds/DelektorskiChick
Summary: Third time is the charm for Tony; he brushes up against the world Clint and Natasha have created (again) and this time he just can't help himself.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov/Tony Stark, Clint Barton/Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Series: Pushing the Limit [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/280272
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter One - Tony

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FaeWitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaeWitch/gifts).



> Third and final installment for today. Probably for the next, what, year, year and a half? That how long it's been since the last posting? I don't even know anymore. Have fun?
> 
> Title is from a quote by Milan Kundera.  
> "The basis of shame is not some personal mistake of ours, but that this humiliation is seen by everyone."

Tony could not _believe_ his luck today.

Today had actually started yesterday afternoon with a malfunctioning Widow’s Bite that had shocked him no matter what he touched it with, followed by a reactor gone bad in the arm of his suit. Once he had finally crawled into bed -next to a nearly ready to get up Pepper- it had been almost dawn. Exhaustion did its job and had dragged him under into REM sleep, only to be woken a short hour later by the Avengers alarm going off. Apparently AIM had put together some sort of attack that only they could stop.

Or so the Powers That Be said, anyway.

And it had just been bad timing on his part that when, in the middle of moving Barton to a non-crumbling perch, he and the archer had miraculously been the only two to get hit with whatever goo the bad guys had been spraying all over midtown.

Tony protested the decon shower vehemently. Barton was one thing; the man fought in what amounted to an armored tank top, with tons of skin exposed. JARVIS had locked the suit down tight as soon as a threat had been realized, there was no _possible way_ for anything to have gotten to him, no way that he’d been exposed, the suit-

Pepper won the argument.

So here he was, on what hit the top ten list of worst days of his life -excluding Afghanistan and the time he flew a nuke through a wormhole, of course- stripping down in the decon room with Clint, mad at the world and well beyond the point of collapse. He stood there, arms crossed, and trying very hard not to stare at Barton’s junk -out of pure scientific interest, of course- waiting for JARVIS to turn on the shower.

The AI didn’t.

Tony glared at JARVIS’s nearest visual input.

“J, what gives? I wanna go take a nap.”

If it was possible for an AI to sound embarrassed -which, Tony had designed it, of course it could- then that’s what JARVIS was.

“My apologies, sir, but Agent Barton hasn’t yet removed every article of apparel.”

Tony looked over in time to see the archer giving JARVIS’s speaker the stink eye. A quick, in no way sexual up and down glance told Tony that, as far as _he_ could tell, Barton was as buck ass naked as he was.

“You realize that Natasha _will_ kill me?”

“Again, my apologies Agent Barton, but these _are_ the procedures that you and Agent Romanov told me to follow. In fact-”

“Wait, J, you’ve been seeing the Agents behind my back?”

“Only to stop them from cutting the feed to _all_ of my cameras, sir, instead of just the ones in their rooms. Agent Barton, need I contact Agent Romanov and have her-”

“No, JARVIS, it’s fine, I can do it. It’s just awkward as hell.”

One of Tony's eyebrows hit his hairline as Barton bent over at a forty-five-degree angle, braced one hand on the wall of the decon room, reached the other behind him and-

Tony’s brain had to be short circuiting. He was hallucinating. There was no way that he’d just-

“Barton, did you just pull a plug out of your ass?”

“No, Stark, that was my bow.” The stink eye was aimed at him before Barton turned to the hole in the wall that they’d just dropped their clothes through. “Of course it’s a butt plug; hell, you know that I’ve worn one on a mission before.” They both watched in silence as it slid down the incinerator chute -the weapons and armor were going through a similar process to them in the next room- “It was Natasha’s.”

The next silence held just a little too long. “And she’s going to kill you because…?”

“Because she told me not to take it out.”

With Barton’s back to him, Tony could now see faint scratches on his shoulders and fading welts on his ass. Both were in a stage of healing that indicated that they had _not_ been attained during this little AIM scuffle. He was just starting to realize that he and his dick were going to have a little problem if Barton were to turn around now when J finally turned on the spray.

Tony managed a quick, “Kinky,” over the noise of the water.

Barton laughed, and then his voice went hot and low, and god, maybe Tony was a little more gay than he thought he’d been- “Oh, Stark, you’ve got _no_ idea.”

Tony sighed internally as the steam started to build and the other man’s figure began to blur. He knew this feeling by now, knew it too well.

It meant that his cock was about to get him in a world of trouble. He shrugged to himself.

Oh well.


	2. Chapter Two - Tony

Tony asked Pepper first. After all, they were as good as married and she knew all his deep dark fantasies anyway; he needed her explicit permission to do anything other than her with his dick.

Surprisingly, she seemed to be okay with it.

That fact alone should have set off numerous alarm bells, but when Tony’s downstairs brain started doing the thinking for him, alarm bells tended to get ignored.

He went to Barton second, but all he got was hysterical laughter and a hand waving in the general direction of Natasha’s suite of rooms.

It took him time to mentally gird his loins -he briefly thought of physically girding them as well- but he finally braved knocking on Natasha’s door.

She actually answered, wearing sweats and what had to be an old SHIELD issue shirt of Barton’s with the sleeves cut off -there was enough skin on display so that he could tell that she most definitely _wasn’t_ wearing a bra- and had one eyebrow raised at him.

“Looks like I owe Clint ten bucks.”

That explained the hysterical laughter, at least; Natasha almost never lost a bet. She just shook her head at him and grabbed him by the front of the Van Halen shirt he was wearing, and dragged him inside.

“If you’re going to be joining us in a session, then there’s a few ground rules we need to cover. And you’d better take them to heart, or I’ll rip that reactor out of your chest and laugh as the shrapnel kills you.”

She thrust Tony -who now felt rather queasy, remembering that Natasha’s preferred position on their team was _assassin_ \- into a chair at the table in her kitchenette. On said table was a disturbingly thick sheaf of papers and a pen.

Natasha sat in the chair opposite him, and Tony felt his eyes meet hers almost as if they were magnetized.

“This is a list of kinks.”

Tony opened his mouth to say something snarky, but the look in Natasha’s eye froze the words in his throat.

“Purple ink are Clint’s answers, mine are in black, and yours will be in red.” She held the pen out to him after clicking it open. It was on the tip of his tongue to remind her that he didn’t like to be handed things, but her gaze told him if he protested, he’d be out on his ass before he could blink.

Tony took the pen.

“Take your time. If you have any questions, now is the time to ask them. First thing you need to know is that if any one of us mark it with no, it won’t happen.”

She slid the papers a little closer to Tony, then stood and went over to the stove where a kettle of water was steaming and began to make tea. Tony looked down at the first page and began to read. Some of these kinks were pretty out there -feeder porn, anyone? – but what made his eyebrows start to crawl up into his hairline wasn’t necessarily the fact that they were on the list, but the fact that so many things had been marked Yes and so few No or Maybe.

If he remembered his Latin correctly, then he really didn’t want to know why Barton was into Oviposition. Or why Natasha had also marked it yes.

The few No’s he did see made sense; knife play, gun play, and blood play all hit a little too close to home. Same with needles and drugs. But why would cigarettes be on the No list? Tony could just see Natasha in an armchair and his smoking jacket, cigarette smouldering in a long holder as a naked Clint knelt between her thighs and-

He absently marked voyeurism down as a yes.

Natasha placed a mug of tea in front of him, drawing his attention away from the fantasy. Tony shook his head briefly before continuing on down the page. Once done, he flipped back through, and it was truly disconcerting to see that he had more No’s and Maybe’s listed than the other two put together.

But then, they’d been doing this together for God only knew how long.

And Tony had thought he was kinky. Some silk ties, some slap and tickle, not to mention- Well, he wouldn’t mention it. But now he realized that he’d been pretty vanilla. Even before he and Pepper had been a _thing_ , there hadn’t been anything too exotic in his repertoire; a threesome here and there, that one memorable time drunk in college that he and Rhodey _did not speak of_ , but nothing like _this_.

As he finished the last page and signed it with a flourish, Natasha slid a final sheet of paper to him that he hadn’t noticed earlier.

“This is a list of unbreakable rules. Should you decide to break one,” she said, slowly taking a sip of her tea, “I have a choice. I can either eject you from the room with a very good chance that, as soon as I make sure Clint is alright, I hunt you down and I kill you, or I can ask Clint if he’d like to switch places.

“With you.”

Tony’s mouth went dry, and he automatically reached for the now tepid tea at his elbow. Given some of the kinks that Barton had marked yes to-

Well, he better not break any rules.

“Rule one: in that room, my word is law. I tell you to do something, you do it.” She held up a finger as Tony opened his mouth to protest. “There are no exceptions to this. I am in charge of the safety and well-being of everyone in that room. In order to make sure that, barring an extreme accident, we all leave that room the same way we came in, if a little bruised and a lot happy, you must do as I say.

“Rule two: there will be no touching unless you are specifically directed to.” She cocked an eyebrow and looked at him over the rim of her mug. “And that includes yourself.”

Tony felt himself wince.

“Rule three: no speaking unless you are asked a question, invited to make a statement, or are asking for or volunteering a color or safeword. Colors work like traffic lights; green means go, yellow is slow down, red means stop whatever specific action caused you to say it, safeword stops all play and we figure out what went wrong.”

Tony knew that the look he gave her was a pained one. It was hard enough for him to be quiet right now; he got even more vocal during sex. Pepper often -jokingly- complained that he was louder than she was.

Natasha drank some of her tea before continuing on; “It’s that or I gag you.”

Junior gave a mighty interested twitch at that.

“Fourth and final rule: there are no photos, video, or phones allowed. The only memories you’re allowed of this are the ones in your mind.

“Follow all of the rules, and we just may let you join us again.”

Tony signed the rule paper too, his flourish a little shaky now. He was _not_ going to let this opportunity slip through his fingers, not if he had Pepper’s approval.


	3. Chapter Three - Tony

That was how, just over a week after the no-good, terrible-awful, interesting day, Tony was staring at a door he was fairly certain he’d never seen before -in his _own_ damn building, no less- looking at a typed sign taped to the door.

_Remember the rules. Knock twice, then enter and sit on the chair._

Tony inhaled deeply, then let it out slowly, feeling his fingers shake and his heart pound nearly against the reactor housing. He was really going to do this, whatever this was going to be. He knocked firmly on the door with his knuckles, twice. Then, before he could lose his nerve, Tony opened the door, stepped inside, and pulled it quietly shut behind him.

He hadn’t been quite sure what to expect.

Yeah, there were some pretty obvious sex items -the St Andrew’s Cross would have been hard to fit in the closet, for one- but it basically just appeared to be one of the smaller, unused guest suites with the sheets stripped off the bed.

A naked Agent Barton, kneeling on a cushion in the middle of the room, however, was most definitely _not_ a standard suite amenity. Tony also noted that one of the two armchairs that was supposed to be over by the office/breakfast nook in the corner had been moved against the wall to give strategically good views of Barton, the bed, and some sort of wooden triangle with leather straps attached.

As he walked towards the chair that the note seemed to have indicated, Tony couldn’t help but stare out of the corner of his eye at the man. He knelt on a cushion, as he’d previously noted, but there was something about the _way_ Clint was kneeling that made Tony’s cock want to sit up and take notice. His knees were shoulder width apart, ankles apparently tucked under his ass. His hands were behind his back and, from what Tony could tell from his quick glance, crossed at the wrist. He stared straight ahead at the empty wall, seemingly oblivious to Tony’s entrance. But he’d seen the man’s cock when he’d walked in the door; Clint had been just barely hard, but now he was steadily coming to attention as Tony carefully sat in the armchair.

His ass had barely hit the seat when Natasha made her entrance. And it was an _entrance_ , he had to give her that, especially as she was just coming in from the bathroom.

Natasha’s hair streamed down, perfectly straight, from a high ponytail nearly at the crown of her head. There was a thin, black velvet ribbon tied around her neck with a single pearl drop hanging from the middle. She wore a black corset that lifted her breasts to the ultimate limit, and instead of underwear, there was-

Tony’s mouth went dry and he had to swallow hard. Instead of underwear, Natasha had a strap on harness that carried a dildo shaped like a realistic, very erect penis the exact same shade as her skin. The look was completed by stiletto heels the same color as her hair and a riding crop in her hand.

Her smile, when Tony managed to look up again, was as sharp as a razor.

“Good boy,” she crooned, and Tony’s felt his own cock start to rise. She rested her hand on Clint’s head, and he saw Barton lean into the touch.

“Good _boys_ , sitting where you were told,” and _oh_ , okay, so _that’s_ what that felt like.

Natasha reached over to the bare mattress and grabbed a wide leather something off it. When she held it up, Tony recognized it from his research this last week as a posture collar. For a wild half second, Tony was convinced that she intended to put it on him, but then Natasha gripped Clint’s hair by the roots and raised him up on his knees.

“Open,” she said, and as Barton’s mouth dropped open she placed the crop in his mouth. “Don’t drop that.”

Clint’s eyes closed to slits as Natasha belted the collar around his neck, his nostrils flaring and his teeth holding delicately onto the handle of the crop.

When she took it back from him, Natasha cupped Barton’s face in her hand. “Good little slut.” She popped the tip of the crop against the head of Clint’s cock -none too gently, either- and Clint yelped, then whined in the back of his throat.

“Now turn and present your ass to our guest.”

It took Clint a moment to catch his breath -to be honest, Tony did too- but when he did, he turned on his knees, bent at the waist, and pressed his head and shoulders to the ground, reaching behind himself and spreading his ass cheeks wide. He had a brand-new plug in his ass, this one complete with tail, and Tony lost the breath from his lungs so quickly it was like he’d been punched in the solar plexus.

Good god, no one, _no one_ but Pepper and _maybe_ Rhodey knew about this. The-the-the _thing_ that had him waking up shooting his fucking load just _dreaming_ about-

It had been on the list, but he had marked so many other things _also_ as yes that weren’t necessarily this involved-

“Wag!”

The tail, of the thin, whippy variety slapped Clint’s ass as he wiggled it from side to side. Tony was having heart palpitations. The Black Widow was going to add another name to her list, ‘cause she was going to kill him.

“As you can see,” she went on, as Clint continued to wag his tail. “My little whore likes to wear my plug. It reminds him that he’s _mine_.” On the last word she brought the crop down hard on Barton’s right ass, making him yelp again and leaving a big red mark in its wake. “The tail is just for fun though, isn’t it, slut?” A matching mark appeared on Barton’s other side, complete with attendant yelp.

“Present forward.”

Clint turned back around, and Tony saw that, far from the pain making Clint’s erection ease off, he appeared harder than ever.

Why that little masochist…

Tony gripped the arms of the chair hard as Natasha turned that stern gaze on him.

“You may unzip your pants and take your cock out, but then your hands go back where they are. No playing.”

He swallowed hard and made a lightning fast decision that he hoped didn’t come back to haunt him.

“Yes ma’am.”

Her blade-edged smile was back. “Good boy.”

Tony’s eyes nearly rolled back in his head at her words, but after freeing himself he settled back into the chair and continued to watch. Natasha first locked Clint’s fists into leather gloves, then attached belled clamps to nipples that she pinched hard enough to make Clint whine. She attached a leash to the collar, but the final touch was a set of floppy dog ears on a headband that Natasha settled carefully into Barton’s short hair.

As Natasha bent over to place a kiss on her “sweet puppy’s” head, Clint did what Tony desperately wanted to do and buried his face directly in her cleavage.

“No!” Natasha’s voice was sharp as she pulled back and delivered three hard blows from the crop to Clint’s ass. “Bad puppy!” Clint yelped and whined and tried to cower -like an actual dog, Tony thought fleetingly- but the leash was short and Natasha refused to let him pull away. “Bad dog!” She gave one final, hard blow to his cock; Clint jerked and gave an all too human scream. “It appears as though you’ve forgotten all your manners.”

Clint was breathing hard, blinking furiously to try and clear tears from his eyes as he reset himself on his shaking knees. Tony had very nearly cupped himself in sympathy, but at the last possible second he’d remembered the rules and kept his hands where they were. His knees had jerked up slightly, but that was a physiological reaction that he hoped Natasha realized couldn’t be helped.

Natasha leant in and cradled Clint’s chin in her hand, gently wiping away the few tears that had escaped with her thumb.

“Color, Clint?”

Barton had to swallow several times, but he managed a shuddering and somewhat hoarse, “Green, волчица.”

Natasha said nothing more, just dropped his chin and went back to the pose she’d been in.

Now _that_ was hot. Tony couldn’t even manage to describe what emotions that had hit inside him, other that it had been caused by the absolute trust these two had in each other. A touch and a phrase were all that it had taken to ascertain that Barton not only was okay, but that he was enjoying himself.

It was _intense_.

“As I was saying, you seem to have forgotten your manners, puppy.” She gave a quick tug on the leash, pulling Clint in close on her left side. “I think that we need a quick refresher course.

“Heel.”

Clint moved with her on hands and knees, and now Tony saw why Natasha wore those absurdly tall heels. They slowed her naturally quick pace so that Clint could keep up with her.

They made a circuit and a half of the room, winding up directly in front of Tony. When Natasha stopped, Barton knelt back on his heels, leaving his bound fists on the floor in front of him. She took him through all of what Tony thought of as basic commands; sit, down, shake, speak. Clint even gave a very realistic bark on the last one. Then Natasha moved onto more difficult tricks, things like “roll over” and “play dead”. If Clint didn’t position himself entirely to her liking, then Natasha would use the crop to give very quick, hard corrections to whichever body part was misbehaving.

Once or twice, Tony would have sworn that Barton did something incorrectly on purpose, wanting to get popped.

The nipple clamps jingled merrily the whole time.

Then came the tricks that Tony was sure would send the ASPCA into convulsions if someone ever taught them to a real dog.

“Present front,” was the basic resting position Clint seemed to default to.

“Present rear,” was that tail position that _did things_ to Tony, especially now that he had an up close and very personal view.

“Kiss,” “Swallow,” and “Suck,” were all performed on the dildo Natasha wore, and Tony’s breathing got a little shaky when Clint glanced over at him on the last one, drawing off with an obscene slurping noise.

Natasha then dropped the leash, told Clint “Stay,” and walked over to the other chair in the room, bracing herself on the arms -Tony was grateful; if she’d bent over him he probably wouldn’t have been able to keep from burying his own face in her chest- and gave Barton the command to “Get the kitty!”

He lunged over to her, and with absolutely none of the finesse that Tony knew a man like the sniper had to be capable of, Clint buried his face in Natasha’s now exposed cunt, licking and tonguing and nibbling. Natasha’s head fell forward with a groan and she braced herself on the chair, locking knees that Tony could see were visibly shaking.

She finally came with a short cry that had Tony’s below the waist brain screaming at him to join in. Natasha turned and collapsed, half in and half out of the chair.

“Suck,” she ordered Barton, and as he immediately began to bob up and down on her strap on, Natasha looked over at Tony.

“What do you think, Stark? Has my puppy been good?”

Tony had to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. Day- _um_ , that had been… hot as fucking hell. And really made him wish that there was a different red head in here, and a different dog on his knees-

“I think he’s been a very good puppy.”

Barton wagged his tail and somehow managed to whine around the toy in his mouth.

Then Natasha smiled, and goosebumps rose over Tony’s entire body.

“Drop it, puppy.”

Clint did so, sitting back on his heels and panting, letting his tongue loll out of his mouth. Natasha pulled something out of the depths of the chair -making Tony wonder briefly what _his_ chair might be hiding- then Natasha sat up and placed it in Clint’s mouth, then pointed at Tony.

“Puppy, fetch.”

Barton crawled over to Tony and pawed carefully at his knee. When Tony obligingly opened up his legs, Clint sheathed him in a warm, hot mouth. Tony shoved the first two knuckles of his right hand between his teeth and bit down to keep from crying out. His vision cleared as Clint almost immediately let him go again. Tony looked down to see his -now _very_ eager- cock covered in a condom.

“Since I doubt very much that you’re fluid bonded to anyone other than Pepper…”

Tony inhaled and gave a shaky laugh. “It’s perfectly fine.”

Clint whined from between his legs, butting his head against Tony’s thigh, and then he stuck out his tongue and licked at the head of Tony’s shaft.

“He wants you to pet him.”

Tony looked at Natasha. “May I?” See, he could remember rules.

The glow of the arc reactor paled in comparison to her smile.

“Yes, you may.”

Tony looked back down and let one hand fall gently to the top of Clint’s head, fingers curling to scratch behind one of the headband “ears”. Clint closed his eyes, one knee popping up and moving as if he were actually attempting to scratch.

“He is unbearably cute.” He snuck a quick look back over at Natasha, uncertain if praising Clint was on the list of things that he was allowed to say.

“Yes, he is, isn’t he.”

Apparently, praise was allowed.

“Go ahead, run through some commands with him. Let him show you that he does remember his manners.”

Tony swallowed hard. Barton looked up at him, trust in his eyes, and Tony let his breath out slowly. Sitting forward in his chair, he kept Clint’s gaze.

“Puppy, sit.” A heady feeling rushed through him as Barton dropped back on his heels. Cautiously glancing over at Natasha before doing anything, Tony carefully took Clint through the basics. When they got to roll over, Tony even got a go ahead nod to rub his belly, making the nipple clamps jingle. Barton squirmed in joy, just like a real dog might.

When he popped back over to his hands and knees, Clint was the one to look at Natasha. Whatever question passed between them was unheard by Tony, but he liked the results.

Clint slid his mouth back over his cock, tail wagging as he slowly started to take Tony to pieces. Tony, for his part, kept up a steady petting motion -with a shaky hand- over Barton’s head and down his side.

“Such good boys, playing so nicely.”

Oh. _Oh._ So _that_ really was what this was all about. Good to know he’d been right.

Tony’s made an odd noise as Clint redoubled his efforts at the praise. His mouth dropped open, breath coming in hard gasps.

He was _so_ close-

“Puppy, drop it.” Tony heard Natasha, but she seemed very far away. “I said _drop it_.”

There was a loud smacking sound and then Clint yelped, dropping Tony from his mouth. Tony whined too. Not nearly as convincing as Barton, but it still made Natasha smile slightly as she stood and glared at her misbehaving pup.

Tony shook his head quickly. When had he started thinking of Clint as an actual dog?

“Now Stark, you have a choice.” Tony tried to slow his breathing and focus. “Puppy, the eager little cockslut, can finish you that way if you’d like. And as anyone will tell you, it’s an experience.” She gave a pointed glance to his crotch. “But if we go that way, we’re done. You’ll get cleaned up and go; Clint and I will finish this session on our own. Or…”

Natasha walked over to the bed and picked up another collar, this one plain, simple red leather. She tossed it onto his lap, the tag on it just barely missing his cock.

When he looked at the offending bit of dangling metal, the name on it read “Tony.”

He swallowed hard and met Natasha’s eyes.

“Or you can breed the little bitch. He’s in heat, and he needs a good, hard fuck to remind him of his place.”

Tony almost - _almost_ \- came then and there.

He didn’t dare let his gaze waver from Natasha’s, but he heard Clint whine at his feet and felt his tail whipping against his legs. He felt a slow, what he could only call lecherous, smile spread across his face.

“Woof woof.”

Natasha’s smile matched his own, and that should have scared him a bit, but Tony was past the point of really caring.

“Somehow, I knew you’d say that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> волчица – volchitsa – she-wolf or bitchwolf - what Bucky and Clint call Natasha when speaking about her to a Dominant third party, or in this case, when Clint is in front of any third party


	4. Chapter Four - Tony

And _that_ was how Tony found himself also naked and kneeling, hands in similar gloves to Clint’s, a collar around his neck and the headband dog ears. Thankfully he didn’t have a tail, he wasn’t _quite_ sure he was ready for that just yet. He watched as Natasha slid a harness over Clint’s head that held a mask that gave him the floppy ears and snout of some kind of retriever. She adjusted the nipple clamps a little tighter, making Clint’s whine echo in the mask.

As soon as the bells were tightened to her satisfaction, Natasha grabbed Clint’s leash and began trying to drag him over to the triangular stand Tony had noticed earlier, but had so far gone unused. Trying, because as soon as Barton saw which way they were headed, he fought for every inch of ground, growling low behind his mask.

Something must have shown on his face, because when Natasha laid her crop into Clint’s ass with a sharp crack at the same time she jerked on the leash, she spoke.

“Stop it, you little bitch. You’re scaring Tony.” She glared at Clint a moment, who was still fighting her, before glancing back at Tony. “He’s just being a dramatic brat. He doesn’t like the breeding stand much, but he likes what we do on it.”

Tony eyed the wooden triangle, then Barton’s cowering posture.

“That’s great and all, Romanov, but I would still like a color from Clint, if that’s okay.”

Clint relaxed instantly, sitting up in his basic kneeling position as Natasha eased up on the leash. “Green, Tony.” His voice still had that slight reverb from the mask. “I’m fine. She’s actually being really nice. If I’d been fighting her this hard without an audience, she’d normally have put something curved and barbed in a really uncomfortable place by now.

“Trust me, I’m enjoying every second of this.”

Tony eyed him dubiously. Now that he was naked too, he was aware of how much more vulnerable he was; on all fours and no thumbs if something went wrong.

“If you weren’t, then you’d safeword out?”

Clint snorted. “Of course.”

“Okay then.” He turned to Natasha and gave an awkward little bow of his head. “My apologies.”

She reached out just far enough to cup Tony’s cheek. “Never apologize for checking on a partner during a scene. You’re doing fine.” She gently patted his cheek, then tugged Clint off balance so quickly that he yipped.

“Come on, you stupid bitch, get on the stand!”

And just like that, Clint was back in character. Tony also remembered, watching him fuss and fight, that not only did Barton know his limits but that when he and Natasha sparred, the archer only got his ass beat in two out of three matches. Yeah, most of the time Natasha trounced him, but there was still that third time that Clint would pin her.

He’d be fine.

Tony watched as Natasha wrestled Barton onto the stand, using voice, leash, and riding crop. She bent his waist over the high point of the triangle, strapping each thigh to an upright support. Once that was done, she dragged his head down and clipped the posture collar to a ring in the base of the stand and then clipped each wrist to the collar. It left Clint pretty much helpless, ass and tail in the air and cock hanging free.

Clint whimpered and tugged futilely as his bonds, but his penis had started leaking precome at some point during the struggle.

Natasha turned and slid gracefully to her knees, reaching a hand out towards Tony. She made some very soft snaps and made a couple of kissing noises at him.

“Here puppy, c’mere puppy.”

Tony wanted to raise an eyebrow, he really really did, but now he was starting to really get into it. Hell, there’d been a reason he’d marked this as a Yes on the list.

Slowly, playing the wary stud dog she obviously wanted, he crawled slowly forward on mitted hands and knees toward Natasha. She stilled the motions of her hand as he approached but kept up the kissy noises, letting him sniff her hand before Tony reached his tongue out tentatively and licked the tips of her fingers.

“Good puppy,” she cooed, “Sweet boy.” She reached out and scratched Tony behind his “ears”. “Such a good boy.” Tony could almost feel the tail he didn’t have start wagging. “Are you ready to breed my little bitch?”

Tony yipped softly, nuzzling into her hand. Clint whined, but Tony saw through slitted eyes that his tail actually was wagging.

Natasha just laughed.

Still praising him, she gently towed Tony over to Clint’s ass by the collar, aiming his nose for the skin between the base of the plug and the start of his sack. He sniffed a moment -more noise than actual sniffing, ‘cause human Tony drew _that_ line, even if Clint had cleaned himself really well, as Natasha had promised- before he gave a careful, curious lick.

Puppy Clint responded with a very human moan and a short thrust backwards.

“Let’s get you pretty puppies ready, huh?” Natasha reached a hand under Tony’s belly and ran a hand slick with lube up and down his protected shaft several times. Just as he was really starting to enjoy it, she took her hand away and-

So _that’s_ how Clint was making that noise.

Natasha laughed again. “Easy, boy, you’ll get your chance.” She moved her lube-slick hand to the base of Clint’s tail and started to slowly ease the heavy plug out of his ass. Clint’s whines changed into moans as she worked it slowly out and then part of the way back in. It was really fucking hot, and Tony’s dick wanted to make sure that he knew it.

Finally, the plug was out, and Barton’s ass clenched on nothing, gaping and unable to close all the way. Tony was completely in his headspace now and followed Natasha’s hand with his mouth and tongue as she tried to slick his way.

She bopped him on the nose with a finger.

“Wait, eager puppy, wait. You’ll get your turn.”

Tony whined and pranced in place as Natasha slowly circled two fingers in Clint’s ass, then three. As soon as she pulled her hand free, Tony threw himself over Barton, arc reactor housing digging into the spine of the man under him. There were a few frustrating thrusts where all he did was knock their cocks together, but without hands he really couldn’t get junior to cooperate.

Then Natasha guided him in, and Tony saw stars.

He was the puppy Natasha praised him as. Nothing mattered except the moaning bitch underneath him and the tight, _tight_ heat he was thrusting into. He licked and worried at the skin of the shoulders before him, near the collar, marking the bitch as _his_. He bit down harder, pulling out a yelp that turned to a moan from it, and Tony growled low in his chest.

Natasha kept up her dog-whisperer prattle.

“Good puppy, breeding the bad little bitch like you were told.”

Tony didn’t know if it was the words, his actions, Barton barking and struggling underneath him, or some combination thereof, but his orgasm -the best of his _life_ , so far- hit him like a freight train from out of nowhere, and it ripped a shout out of him from somewhere below the arc reactor. He slammed Clint’s hips into the breeding stand and held him there, teeth gripping his shoulder as Tony emptied into the condom.

Beneath him, Barton whined. He still hadn’t come, and Tony did _not_ have the strength for a reach around right now.

Natasha ran a hand down his back in a comforting petting motion. “Good boy, easy puppy, easy. There’s someone else here who needs a breeding, if you’re up for it.”

It took a couple moments for him to register that her words weren’t just idle prattle anymore. Tony looked up, wondering if Natasha meant herself, but his eyes got stuck on the fourth presence that he hadn’t registered was in the room.

Pepper. _Pepper_ stood in the doorway of the bathroom, in a semi-sheer robe and with pink staining her cheeks. Pepper stood _staring_ at him, balls deep in another man, and wearing _stupid_ floppy dog ears. He was wearing a _collar_ , for chrissakes-

He scrabbled ineffectually at Clint’s back, trying to get enough purchase to pull out and not really succeeding.

“Tony, it’s okay.” Then Pepper was there, hand gentle on his shoulder, and Tony wanted to sink through the floor. Sure, she’d given her permission, but giving permission and watching were two totally different things. “Nat came to me a day before you did.” She laughed a little as she started stroking his back. “Told me what was likely going to happen, wanted to make sure I’d be open to it if you did, so that if I wasn’t and you still came to her…”

Tony did look up then, a little hurt that _anyone_ thought that he’d disrespect Pepper that way.

That’s when he noticed the slim gray collar around _Pepper’s_ neck.

“She asked what you liked, what you disliked.” Her free hand came up and fiddled with the small silver heart hanging from her neck. “I told her you liked praise. You liked to watch.” Her face when red clear up to the roots of her hair. “I told her about, about _this_.”

So apparently, if the second headband of dog ears that Natasha was currently handing to her meant anything, when he’d confessed this little secret to her, he’d made it a _shared_ fantasy.

Clint whined as Tony’s cock gave a hard twitch where it still rested in Clint’s ass.

“The surprise was Pepper’s idea.” Natasha was still stroking his back, matching her rhythm to Pepper’s. “That was one of her fantasies; walking in on you with someone else, joining in…”

Tony watched in fascination as Pepper’s face got even redder, and he vaguely remembered ticking off the Yes box next to “Getting caught by a lover”.

Oh. _Oh._

_Kinky._

“Pep-per,” he said, in a very quiet sing-song, “You got some ‘splainin’ to do.”

He counted it as a win that Natasha didn’t smack him for talking. He slid out of Clint, hardly realizing that he did so, turning to follow Pepper as she walked slowly towards the bed. When he looked at her ass –‘cause, c’mon, it was Pepper’s _ass_ \- he thought he saw-

No. That was crazy. She wouldn’t-

Then Pepp turned around and let the robe fall to the ground. She sat demurely on the edge of the bed, palms on either side of her hips, and looked shyly as him. Then she spread her legs wide, and Tony was rewarded with an eye-level view of her meticulously groomed cunt, glistening in the low light of the suite.

Tony hadn’t had a recovery period this fast in _years_. He still wasn’t quite ready to go again, but he was rapidly getting there. His condom had come off somewhere between Barton’s ass and the bed, and he couldn’t really find it in himself to try and find it now. Clean up would be _later_. He was drawn in by that wonderful, delightful place at the apex of Pepper’s thighs. Tony stopped as he got between them, looking up at the love of his life.

He started kissing at her knee, maintaining the eye contact the entire time. He knew what she liked, and he gently mouthed his way up one leg to the crease of her thigh, and then the other. He blew lightly across her folds, and when she shivered, that’s when vacuumed suction over her clit, teeth set just against the flesh around that sensitive bundle of nerves. Pepper nearly screamed as she twitched hard, going absolutely nowhere but jerking herself off on Tony’s mouth.

Internally, Tony cursed the paw mitts. They wouldn’t let him slide a finger into her, press on her g-spot. He improvised instead, curling his tongue around her clit for more suction and raising one “paw” to Pepper’s exposed nipple and worrying at it. She cried out, but didn’t actually manage to come.

She pulled him off anyway, starting to shift and turn, making room for him on the bed, her breasts rising and falling with the giant gasps of air she was taking in.

He was distracted, briefly, from the beauty that was Pepper by the sound of Clint groaning. He turned his head just in time to see Natasha finish sliding all the way in to Clint's ass. He met her eyes as Clint whimpered, and Tony saw a challenge there.

He smirked. He had this one in the bag.

Tony turned and jumped up onto the bed, only to freeze in his tracks when he saw Pepper.

It _had_ been a fucking tail he’d seen under the robe. Pepper had a fucking _tail_ in her ass. He couldn’t process. She’d gone and fried his circuits. It wasn’t thin and whippy like Clint's; it was soft and fluffy and-

She peered over her shoulder at him, pink on her cheeks, and Pepper shook her ass, _wagging her fucking tail at him_.

Tony was on top of her in less than two seconds, lifting the tail up and onto her back as he used one “paw” to help slide himself home. ‘Cause that’s what Pepper was.

Home.

He put one hand on the mattress next to each of hers, completely covering her, and slowly started to thrust, nibbling lightly on her neck.

“God, Tony, every time you bottom out, it pushes the tail in deeper.”

The thrust after that whispered phrase was particularly strong, and Pepper cried out when their hips came together.

He could hear Clint panting hard, and when he looked up, the archer was pushing back, meeting each of Natasha’s thrusts with one of his own. The man whimpered, but still didn’t seem quite ready to let go.

Good. More time for Tony.

Pepper tilted her head to one side, offering up more neck to him. Tony obliged, setting his teeth into her shoulder deep enough to bruise. He made sure her suits would cover it, but for now, he bore down with his teeth, not breaking skin, but only just. They tipped slightly, and he growled, but it was just Pepper reaching a hand down to where they were joined. He felt her fingers slide into her folds, bracketing him as he thrust.

“Fuck, Tony, that feels so good.”

He felt the groan rise up in her, vibrating through the arc reactor, pressed into her back just as it had been in Clint’s earlier. Pepper shifted her hand again, not removing it from around him, but freeing her thumb to circle her clit. Tony felt her tense, and thrust harder, knowing she was close.

Tony freed his teeth from her shoulder just long enough to whisper “Woof,” into her ear, and then Pepper gasped and shivered, bearing down on him as she came.

Even as she collapsed, he continued to thrust, driving her through it and nearing his own, second, nova-inducing orgasm.

He hadn’t quite managed it when there was a strangled howl from the floor, and Clint came all over the breeding stand.

Knowing that he’d beaten Natasha in the undeclared race to make their partners come, that was what sent Tony over the edge with his own shout of triumph.


	5. Epilogue - Clint

Later, much later, after Clint had cleaned the breeding stand with his tongue as his punishment for not waiting for permission to come, and after having licked Natasha through three more orgasms, he knelt with his ass in the air. He panted hard, whining as Natasha pushed her new plug slowly in and out of his hole. He waited until it was nearly all the way inside him before he broke.

“When do you think that Tony will realize you let him win?”

Natasha gave a vicious little twist-push of the plug that nearly had him falling on his face and forcing a squeak out of him.

“Not so long as you don’t tell him or Pepper.”

“No, волчица.”

Natasha granted him some mercy and pressed a kiss to his hip as she finally slid the plug home.

“Good boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> волчица – volchitsa – she-wolf or bitchwolf - what Bucky and Clint call Natasha when speaking about her to a Dominant third party, or in this case, when Clint doesn't want to use the word ma'am


End file.
